Fights
by clomle44
Summary: A/O. First SVU fic. Mature Content. Sorry for reposting, but the first one went away somewhere...    Inspired by aolurker
1. Chapter 1

I've never done an A/O fic, but I've wanted to for ages...

This is a long-ish short fic (if that makes sense). It's in two parts and will be cross posted at my website

My Beta is the fabulous Dev

**Disclaimer:** We definitely don't own these characters; they are the property of Dick Wolf and NBC-Universal-Vivendi. If we owned them, these two would already be a-smoochin.

Sorry for deleting and reposting this, for some reason my account when HACHOOEY. I will be continuing this.

**Fights, Part 1**

Fights: she hated fights. She fought enough at work and had seen enough fights throughout her childhood to feel that she warranted a life without them now. Why she'd chosen a profession that meant she got into arguments professionally was way beyond her understanding but, at the time, it hadn't seemed so stupid.

She could actually handle the professional fights. She could handle standing in the courtroom and slowly pulling a defence attorney's argument apart piece-by-piece until the scumbag he - or she - was trying to free was tied up like the proverbial Christmas turkey. She could do that with the calm, carefree assurance that had become almost notorious. Like her icy-blue stare, her perfect blonde hair, her immaculate suits, her quick wit (the quickest in the New York legal system), it was all part of the persona.

And that's what it was: a persona.

She wondered what They would think if they saw her as she was at that moment; if they knew that, when she got home, the first thing she did was shuck her business attire and throw on a pair of jeans and a battered Yankees sweatshirt; or if they found out that, at the gym she attended, the one she paid a lot of money to attend privately, she mostly punched the life out of a stuffed red bag.

Alex would bet almost anything they thought she was a treadmill girl.

What would they think if they found out she didn't like caviar or champagne and that her favourite meal was actually pizza and cervezas?

What would they think then?

Alex didn't care what They thought. She'd learned long ago not to care what anyone thought, but she'd also learned that carefully cultivated appearances did help smooth one's way through the career path. So she'd cultivated like some blonde, Barbie-like bonsai.

But it wasn't entirely true that she didn't care what anyone thought: she cared what She thought. Oh yes, what She thought was the most important thing in the world: not what Alex thought about herself - that was fairly set in steel - but what _She_ thought.

And so the fight mattered. Because the fight was with _Her_.

Oh, they'd had discussions. After all, she was their ADA and occasionally Benson and Stabler had been known to skirt the boundaries just a little to get an arrest. They'd probably even lost the boundaries from time-to-time to get a conviction. Maybe even once they'd all hurtled themselves over the boundaries and sprinted way off in the other direction together, but some cases were like that. So, yeah, they'd had _discussions_, but what they'd never done before was have a real fight.

Not like this.

Alex Cabot did not cry (at least, as far as the rest of the world was concerned). Those steel-rimmed glasses were a barrier between her and the world and the penetrating blue gaze that sprung from behind them left no-one in any doubt that she was also as cold and hard as the steel rims.

Except when she was in her apartment, sitting in her window seat, with a bottle of Dos Equis in one hand and a slice of pepperoni in the other. Then, she might - only occasionally and only when the feeling overtook her - shed a tear or two.

"Idiot," she chided herself, wiping away the stray tear from her face with the back of her wrist. She didn't want to cry too much: it was hard to eat pizza with a nose full of snot.

She was crying over _Her_. Olivia-Fucking-Benson. Correction: Detective Olivia-Fucking-Benson. Who was probably the only person in the whole of New York who had the power to make Alex Cabot, ADA extraordinaire, break down and tear.

All because of that fight.

Their fight.

Their fight in which Detective Olivia-Fucking-Benson had yelled at her. The brunette - so very strong and powerful, so very proud and full of justice - had yelled at Alex Cabot.

And she'd called her cold. And she'd called her icy. And she'd called her all those things that told Alex that Olivia-Fucking-Benson had bought every falsely constructed part of her persona hook, line and sinker.

That's why she was crying.

Elliot Stabler could have yelled at her. Captain Don Cragen definitely could have yelled at her. Alex would have held her ground, no problems. She may have even gotten snippy with her reply. She would definitely have had a reply for either of them.

The worst of it was that none of it was her fault.

The evidence had been nowhere near enough to convict, no matter how hard the blonde attorney had tried to spin it. Even her boss, District Attorney Jack McCoy, had agreed with her. There just needed to be more. She had wanted the son of a bitch off the street as much as the detectives down at the precinct had, but she couldn't manufacture a conviction out of nothing. She'd done it out of nearly nothing a few times, but never out of actual nothing.

And Olivia had called her cold.

That stung on so many levels.

Alex knew that she was good at her job. She was proud of her reputation and proud of how she did her job. She took a lot of time and care to make sure that the worst of the worst were kept off the streets, in a way that meant they'd be off them for a long time without appeal.

She cared.

More to the point, she cared that Olivia-Fucking-Benson thought she was cold.

Oh God, what would Olivia say if she knew? She'd probably be horrified and run a million miles.

What if she knew exactly how not-cold Alex Cabot had been about Olivia Benson, from the first moment the brunette had sauntered - yes, sauntered - through the precinct, straight past the blonde. She'd been frozen, which she accepted was ironic for the proverbial Ice Queen (she knew that many of the detectives called her that - or worse - behind her back). At the time, Alex could have sworn that her heart was beating so loud that everyone in the building could hear it.

That hadn't been normal. Sudden, instant, undeniable attraction and lust for someone wasn't something that happened to Alex Cabot, and certainly not for a woman. Normally it was all predictably the same: smart-looking man with a smart-looking job took her to a smart-looking restaurant where they had some smart conversation and, if he was lucky, or smart enough, he got invited back for sex. Women had never entered into it. Certainly, they hadn't reduced her to a quivering pile of uselessness that couldn't remember her own name.

Until Olivia-Fucking-Benson.

Of course the attorney had pulled herself together before anyone could notice. You didn't end up being a shark in the court room by letting little things like sheer unadulterated lust let you get distracted. Not that it had been a problem before but she just filed it under 'things I will not let get to me' and that had worked for a while.

Until working with Olivia became the problem. She couldn't just have been like any other detective; no, the brunette had to have turned out to be smart. Oh yeah, she was really smart, like Alex-level smart. And the first time Alex had seen tears in the brunette's eyes over a case, she'd very nearly broken her rule about 'no sweats, no cry', right then and there. Olivia had a heart of gold and it didn't just extend to her work. It umbrella'd out over her friends, co-workers and associates. On occasion, it even extended out over Alex Cabot, but only in the greater umbrella sense.

Occasionally, the blonde would let it out, that kernel inside her that longed for contact, and she'd allow herself something unrelated to work. Very occasionally, she'd accept those offers of a drink and join them after nailing a case.

It had been too long. It had been over a year. She couldn't get out of it, she couldn't get over it, there was no way around it and there was definitely no way _into_ it. Alex Cabot was head-over-heels, tail-in-the-air, completely and utterly in love with Olivia Benson.

Olivia-Fucking-Benson.

So when the brunette had stormed - not sauntered this time, but stormed - into her office that afternoon and accused her of not caring, it had really stung. And it was why, when she'd gone on to call her cold, it had made the blonde's heart quake with pain.

It was why, when Olivia's little rant was over, all of Alex's normal collectedness, her persona, her simple ability to form an argument had left in one big rush. She'd just stood there, shaking slightly, and felt a little bit of herself crumble inside. And then she did the only thing she thought she could do: she walked out the door.

She'd walked out the door of her own office without saying a single word to the detective. Her brilliant and scything vocabulary had deserted her. She couldn't even look at Olivia and the overwhelming feeling that she was definitely about to break her 'no sweats' rule was too much. So she'd left.

And then she had hidden in the bathroom like a little girl until she was certain the coast was clear. Then, she'd hightailed it back to her office, grabbed her belongings and had run home early. Well, if five-thirty could be called early, although it almost certainly could be for Alex who rarely left the office before six-thirty on the best of days.

It had definitely called for beer and pizza.

Could you call a one-sided rant a fight? Alex wasn't sure. Normally, she could have reasoned it all out and fought it off with logic. She could have come up with some cogent arguments and made everything okay within herself. Lately, she'd been fighting a losing battle with that when it came to Olivia, though. It was hard to have a sensible, reasoned conversation with someone when you just wanted to kiss them until you whimpered.

And Alex Cabot had never whimpered for anyone.

The beer tasted good, but it was getting warm. It no longer had that frosty goodness of being just out of the fridge (the coldest part, naturally) and the pizza was starting to cool off.

Taking a bite of the remaining half of her third piece, she decided she didn't want any more, walked into the kitchen and spit it into the trash. The slice followed and the beer made its way towards the sink.

She was about to pour it out, to watch the light amber fluid whirl away down the hole, when she thought better of it. Maybe the semi-cold beer wasn't the problem. Maybe the problem was not enough semi-cold beer. Alex was not a drinker, but she could hold her own. She certainly didn't get drunk or hadn't been for many years. Of course, there were those times in college - everyone had those - and yet she'd maintained her poise perfectly.

Maybe tonight was a night for getting drunk.

It was Friday. Friday was a good night for getting drunk. All she had planned for Saturday was a lot of paperwork and pre-reading, and that could still be accomplished with a hangover.

And maybe beer would make her forget a few things. Maybe it would help her figure out how to make Olivia forget that Alex had run away from her own office. That had to have looked suspicious, hadn't it?

Hadn't it?

A loud jarring rumble, like metal plates colliding with thunder, reverberated through her apartment walls. Slamming her beer down on the kitchen counter, she gritted her teeth. The tenants in her building had been telling the super to fix the damn heating for a month now. It was all very well for the boiler to be making these noises at eight in the evening, but when it made them at four in the morning, repeatedly, it wasn't quite as okay. Of course, nothing had happened. She made a mental note to write a scathing email to him in the morning.

Turning back to the kitchen, she considered opening another beer, one that was colder, and just discarding her leftovers versus draining the one she already had first and then taking another. Like everything else in her life, it became a mental argument, an excuse for reasoning. And she was just about to make a decision when the jarring, horrible noise echoed through the walls again.

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

Now, she felt like hurling her beer bottle at the wall and charging the repairs to her building. That would be a spectacularly un-Alex Cabot thing to do but, then again, she was feeling particularly un-Alex today.

Instead, she just drained the contents with no further thought and threw the bottle in the recycling box. She was halfway back from the fridge with another bottle when there was a knock at the door. She surmised that it would be the super, coming to apologise. Sometimes Alex wondered if she was the only person in the building who complained or if she was just the most effective of the complainers.

Dumping her bottle on the table next to the couch, she marched over to the door and, despite her sweatshirt and jeans, put on her best courtroom face. Flinging the door open, well-determined to give the superintendent a piece of her mind, she was brought up completely short by the appearance of the woman who had been driving her crazy for a full year.

Olivia-Fucking-Benson.

Her mouth went dry. Oh Christ, what the hell was she doing here? And of course the detective looked so good, so very edible and good and sexy and smart, and that was just in jeans, with a shirt and a leather jacket that hung just so off her shoulders. Alex was certain her brain was about to dribble out of her ears.

"Alex." Her voice. Damn but her voice was so… sultry. It was molasses and cream and it flowed like a river in a Southern summer.

"Olivia…" Dammit, that was too familiar! "Detective Benson," Alex tried again, stuttering. Too familiar. Too, too familiar. She'd give the game away even worse than she already had if she wasn't careful. There was a longish silence before Olivia shifted her weight. The detective's hands were in her pockets and she looked a little uncomfortable, or was that uncertainty Alex saw there?

Eventually the brunette spoke again. "Hi." It was soft and it was definitely uncertain.

"How did you get up here?" Mentally, Alex cursed herself with every swear word she'd ever learned and a few she was certain she'd just made up. Way to go, Cabot! Greet the woman of your dreams with rudeness just after walking out on an argument with her, that's really the way to win her friendship back.

Friendship? Alex didn't want friendship with Olivia; she wanted something much, much more. On the other hand, she knew all too well that such a thing was never going to happen, so friendship was probably the only viable option. Not that they really had a friendship, they more had a friendly acquaintance-ship.

Alex realised that Olivia was still standing in her doorway and that she was, in fact, babbling in her own head.

"Sorry," she said, straightening up.

"I said your doorman let me up. I might have flashed my badge at him." At least Olivia contrived to look a little sheepish at that admission. It looked cute on her.

"Oh, uh, that's okay, um, come on in." Stepping back, she let Olivia into her apartment and praised the fact that it was always as neat as a pin. On the other hand, she was wearing jeans and an oversized Yankee sweatshirt. Looking down, she also realised that a small spot of tomato sauce from the pizza had landed on said sweatshirt and, now, at least to Alex, stood out like a glaring neon sign.

Oh great.

And her hair was up in a rough, makeshift bun and her make-up was gone and, generally, she looked just how she imagined she'd look least attractive to Olivia. While she still held no illusions about the other woman's feelings, at least she wanted to look good while around the brunette.

Today was not working out for her.

She closed the door.

"Uh, can I get you something?" Alex swallowed, tried not to stutter and tried to gain a little of her treasured composure.

Olivia turned around. "Oh God, Alex, I didn't mean to intrude on your evening. I… Uh, I just wanted to sort out… then I'll go…"

_Don't go!_ Alex's head screamed for her.

"It's okay. I was just doing some reading for work, eating some… pizza," she admitted with a small smile. She was rewarded with one back and tried to ignore the warm happy feeling she got every time Olivia smiled. This was pathetic. She was a grown woman with an excellent career in the District Attorney's office and she was practically gushing all over a crush. That didn't stop her feeling the happy warmth, though.

She watched Olivia's eyes drift around the apartment and finally settle on the beer bottle, replete with its icy beads of water from the fridge.

"Would you like a beer?" Alex pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and wished to God that she'd put something else on. "I was just… I have a few in the fridge."

"That… that would be nice."

Returning from the kitchen, the blonde found Olivia seated, almost perched really, on the side of the couch, looking a bit uncomfortable. She handed her the beer, top already popped, and smiled, curling up in her favourite armchair.

"Thanks."

"It's fine."

The concept of having a beer with Olivia Benson - in jeans and a sweatshirt, in her own apartment - had never really occurred to her. If it had, she probably wouldn't have fantasised it as this awkward.

After a moment and another swig of beer, the detective put her bottle on the coffee table and rested her elbows on her knees. As she looked down, all Alex could see was the top of a shaggy, yet somehow elegant pixie-like head of hair and the slender curve of a neck. If she followed the line, it ended at a pair of slender hands, ones that Alex had spent just a little too much time thinking about. She averted her gaze before the detective looked up.

"I came to apologise." The phrase was firm, clear and oh-so-very Olivia. She was always straight to the point, but not without some finesse.

"You don't have to do that." She'd already forgiven Olivia; now, all she had to do was forgive herself.

"Yes, I really do." The brunette looked up. "What I said to you was completely uncalled for. And it upset you."

Obviously, Olivia had noticed that her cool, calm persona had slipped a little but Alex had kind of expected that, given that she'd run away like a little girl.

"It's okay." She put her beer down on the coffee table, almost mirroring the detective's actions. "Really, I understood."

There was a short silence. "I didn't mean to hurt you," Olivia almost whispered.

Alex swallowed. She could keep denying, but she knew the brunette wouldn't buy it. Olivia Benson was anything but stupid.

"I know." She reached for her beer, took a swig, and put it back down again. "I didn't mean to … run out like that. I just knew why you were there and I really didn't want to wail on you."

That coaxed a smile out of the brunette. "Didn't want to wail on me?"

"I've been told I can be a bit… scathing."

"Mmm," Olivia chuckled, before taking a drink from her own beer. "I might have seen you be that once or twice. You probably wouldn't have been remiss being a bit scathing on me, though. What I said was unforgivable."

Pausing again, Alex chose her words carefully. "No, not unforgivable." Never unforgivable: she was almost certain she could forgive Olivia anything.

"Uncalled for, then."

"Perhaps." Sighing, Alex curled up a little tighter in her chair and pulled her hands up into her sleeves. It was a reflexive action from long ago, one of protection, of sanctuary, and she did it without fail in her Yankees sweatshirt. "I do care, Olivia." The brunette looked up. "I know you do."

"No, I mean I really care. I care about the women, the children, the people you fight for. I fight for them, too. And when my hands are tied, I hate it, maybe more than you do."

"I'm not sure that can be true."

"Maybe not, but then we're just flipsides of the same coin, aren't we?"

The detective smiled, the left half of her mouth curling up and her eyes crinkling ever so slightly. Alex felt a twinge deep inside.

"That we are, Counsellor."

"Then, occasionally, when it gets hard, I think we can probably forgive each other the occasional," she put the stress on the last word, "free pass for a bit of…"

"Rudeness?"

"I was thinking more… expressiveness." She grinned at the brunette, utterly grateful that her speaking abilities had returned.

Olivia had the grace to chuckle. "I was just plain rude, Counsellor."

"Alex, please."

"Sorry. Alex."

Oh God, Olivia was looking straight into her eyes and the blonde couldn't tear her own away. Did the detective have any idea how mesmerising she was? Probably not.

"Would you like some pizza?"

"Huh?"

"I have pizza. In the kitchen. Pepperoni. There's a few slices left. I can heat them up for you, if you like." Almost as if on cue, the brunette's stomach gave an almighty growl and Alex couldn't help but laugh. "I'll get the pizza."

"So, then, he ran and you should have seen Elliot go after him. I thought his shoes were going to catch fire. Before you know it, the perp is running for this fence. So, he grabs the fence and just leaps over, looking behind at Elliot, who's storming after him. Didn't look where he was going, lands face first in a pile of manure the farmer had left there." Olivia laughed, her eyes shining in the dim lamplight. "Elliot, of course, completely focused on catching him, follows him straight over the fence and face first into a pile of cow shit. We laughed at him for weeks. God, the car stank for weeks, too…"

Alex couldn't help keep the laughter that she'd let bubble up through the story continue. She finished off the last of her beer and put the bottle down on the coffee table amidst the small amount of clutter that had gathered.

Olivia had been there for two hours. They were on their third and fourth beers, respectively, and Alex could feel a slight buzz in the back of her head. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Detective Benson was still there, still on her couch, and, to all appearances, was having a good time.

Alex certainly was.

The pizza was gone. As far as Alex knew, there was one more beer in the fridge and it definitely had Olivia's name on it if the brunette wanted it. As soon as the lawyer had thought of it, her companion for the evening had stretched her arms over her head languidly and the blonde was a goner.

Olivia's shirt rode up just enough for some firm, tight abs to be oh-so-teasingly visible. The line of the shirt outlined two small but perfectly formed breasts and, even in relaxation, eyes closed and head tilted back, Detective Olivia Benson was the picture of perfection.

Alex felt her whole body jump and certain parts of her body become more acutely aware than they'd been in awhile.

Christ.

What would it be like to move across there, surprise the other woman? To feel those lips on her own, searching? To feel what it would be like to run her tongue across Olivia's bottom lip, her teeth, tangle it with the detective's own? What would it feel like to straddle the brunette on the couch, feel that body, lean and strong, against her own?

Heaven. It would feel like heaven.

Alex Cabot, the coward, stayed on her armchair.

"Geez, it's been a long week. I'm beat."

_No, don't go!_ Alex's head screamed out. "I know what you mean," her voice betrayed.

Olivia stood up and Alex followed suit and, if the alcohol had gotten to her at all, she at least had the grace not to let it show.

"Thanks for the pizza and beer. It was just what I needed."

"You're more than welcome, Detective," Alex smiled.

The smile she got back from Olivia was almost cryptic, soft but unreadable. "Olivia, please."

Alex dipped her head, praying to God that the blush threatening to climb its way onto her cheeks would stay down. Her alabaster complexion had made her a sitting duck for the worst kind of blush, and it had taken all of her high-school years to get it under control. Olivia Benson threatened to undo all that in a single evening.

"Thanks for a really nice evening, Alex."

The blonde couldn't help but notice that now the detective was back in her leather jacket, her hands were back in her pockets and the distinct look of uncertainty was about her.

"You're more than welcome. I'm really glad you dropped by." The blonde smiled. "Olivia."

It was clear that the detective was leaving and, short of throwing herself at the woman in some kind of crazed fashion, there wasn't much Alex could do about it. At the very least, she felt like she'd taken some kind of steps towards a friendship and that those steps probably couldn't be undone.

"You all right to drive home?" It was only at the last minute that the lawyer thought of a solution. Typically, she would have reasoned it out hours before, but she'd been so lost in Olivia's company that she hadn't bothered. But, then, it came to her: she really should have gotten the brunette that last beer.

"Oh, I'll cab it." Olivia smiled. "Thanks, though."

"Just looking out for you, Detective."

"As always, Counsellor."

Whatever the moment held, it was fleeting, but Alex could have sworn she saw it: something in Olivia's eyes and the subtle move of a hand out of a pocket. It rose, as if it was to touch the blonde, in a way that wasn't quite new and wasn't quite old. Instead, it found its way to Olivia's own hair, almost faltering, and tucked a loose strand behind the brunette's ear.

Alex let out a breath.

"Yeah, anyway, thanks…" Olivia said, visibly swallowing and taking a step backwards. "I'll see you at work next week?" It was posed as a question, but it wasn't really a question.

"Of course." It was too long. She didn't want to wait till Monday to see Olivia. She knew, even if there was no reason, that she'd find a way to see the detective on Monday anyway. She always did.

The brunette was already halfway down the hall when Alex called out, words coming out of her mouth without any filtering.

"Olivia?"

The brunette turned around. "Yeah?"

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

"No… No, I'm free…"

"You… you think perhaps we could catch dinner?" Oh Jesus, that made it sound like they were going fishing for it first.

The hesitation made it feel like Alex's head was on fire, burning with the potential of humiliation, rejection and, worst of all, exposure.

"Sounds nice. I'll meet you here around seven-thirty?"

Had… had Olivia just said yes? It sure sounded like she'd said yes.

"Seven-thirty sounds perfect."

Alex closed the door behind her, leaning against it, trying to breathe. She honestly had no idea what she'd just gotten herself into, or how she'd gotten herself into it. She wanted to think she had a date, but that was absurd. No, it was just a dinner between two friends, two people interested in becoming better friends, that's all it was.

Just because it was a casual dinner between friends didn't mean that Alex didn't spend the better part of the afternoon with her wardrobe laid out on her bed. She wanted to look nice. Actually, she wanted to look better than nice. She wanted to look irresistible. On the other hand, looking irresistible might be a bit too much if, in fact, she was very resistible and Olivia just thought she was crazy.

There had to be a fine balance of looking nice, good - sexy, even - but at the same time trying to look like she hadn't made too much of an effort.

God, she didn't even know where they were going. She'd considered all the options. After all, she was the one who'd invited Olivia out to dinner, so she was probably going to decide where they were going.

There was La Riviere, but that was probably a little too swish for a date that wasn't a date. Then there was La Traviatta; incredibly clichéd though the name was, it had good food and a relatively laid-back atmosphere. You could turn up in relatively nice clothing, or possibly even jeans and a shirt, and still fit in.

Then there was the steakhouse down the road, but that was peanuts-on-the-floor territory, and Alex wasn't sure but she thought there might be line dancing on a Saturday. The steakhouse certainly wasn't Cabot territory - she had to admit that she felt much more at home in La Riviere - but what if Olivia was a steakhouse person?

It was so hard to tell with the gorgeous brunette. On one hand, she was completely at home with the boys and pretty much as tough-as-nails; on the other hand, she was sweet and lovely and every woman liked to be taken to a nice restaurant from time to time.

Sweating and swearing through her outfits, Alex felt that she had at least reasoned her way down to the Italian. Now if she could only decide what to wear.

What if Olivia showed up in jeans? Surely that would mean a casual friends thing?

What if Olivia showed up in an evening dress? Then she wouldn't have reservations at La Riviere and, while she thought she could probably wrangle something from contacts in the afternoon, by the time evening hit, she'd have no chance.

What if?

Alex stood in the middle of her bedroom, hands on her hips, her wardrobe selections surveyed before her, and worried her bottom lip. She was not being Alex Cabot about this. She was cool, calm, collected and she could tear a witness or a defence attorney to shreds. Now was not the time to go forgetting that.

By the time six-thirty came around, the blonde was ready. Taking stock of herself, she decided she'd done pretty well. Her pinstripe trousers were neatly cut and she had to admit that they did show off her ass nicely. The top she'd chosen was sleeveless, arching up around her neck, and also showed off her shoulders, which she hoped was a good thing. Last but not least were the boots she wore with just a slight hint more of a heel than she'd normally wear, knowing they'd at least show off her legs. Her make-up was subtle but there and her hair was loose, natural.

If questioned, she could say she just felt like dressing up a little for a nice night out, but she wasn't over-dressed. She also wasn't under-dressed, and could eat at almost any reasonable restaurant in town.

Logic had once again won.

She was ready to meet her foe.

When the doorbell went at seven-thirty, Alex nearly jumped out of her skin. Trying to walk casually to the door instead of with major haste was hard, but she just managed it.

Opening the door didn't help her ability to remain cool and aloof in the slightest.

Olivia looked amazing.

Olivia always looked amazing.

She was dressed not dissimilarly to Alex, actually, in a nice dress pair of pants with a matching shirt. Her make-up was light and her hair was perfect. She was not too dressed up, not too dressed down and yet just as breathtaking as Alex had ever seen.

She tried to talk and ended up choking on her own saliva. Even while she was bent over, coughing her lungs up, she could feel the humiliation rising inside. Unprepared as Alex was, the sudden sensation of Olivia's hand on her back made neither the coughing nor the humiliation better. In fact, it just made her cough all that much harder until she finally felt like her lungs were clear.

By that point, the blonde was kneeling on the floor, down on one knee, clutching her stomach. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to look up, even though she'd stopped spluttering and coughing. Olivia was crouched down next to her and making small warm circles on her lower back. Partly, the sensation was almost so overwhelming that she didn't want it to stop. She couldn't help imagining what it would feel like to have Olivia's hands on her skin, stroking, touching.

Eventually, she had to get up though, because continuing to crouch down looked ridiculous. Slightly red-faced, both from the coughing and the embarrassment, she looked up at the brunette.

"You okay?" Olivia said, looking adorably concerned.

Alex flushed further. "Yeah, thank you. Just swallowed the wrong way."

The brunette smiled, causing another frisson of excitement to pass through the lawyer. She took the offered hand and let Olivia pull her to her feet.

Suddenly, they were standing close, almost too close. All that was between them was a pair of joined hands, almost like a fist, with practically no space otherwise.

The frisson of sensation turned into a near torrent.

Before she could say anything, Olivia took a step backwards, turning through the open door as if to leave. Before she did so, Alex could have sworn that she saw a crimson flush, not dissimilar to her own, on the detective's cheeks.

Olivia turned back around, "Ready to go?" She seemed nervous, definitely suddenly ill-at-ease with the situation. She wasn't the only one.

The attorney nodded, swallowing again and making sure she didn't choke this time. "I'll just grab my purse."


	2. Chapter 2

This was always supposed to be a one shot, that turned into a two shot. It's not my best work, I'll admit that, but it's a start. I have another A/O fic in the works, should be posting that soonish.

Thanks everyone for reading, I'm gonna go squee now.

The restaurant was blissfully not busy. Alex was also glad for the distinctly dimmed mood lighting because the blonde was blushing almost crimson as the maitre d' led them to a corner table. She knew the owners of the restaurant quite well, and it was her usual out of the way seating. She hadn't quite expected to be led there tonight, and she wasn't sure what Olivia would think. At the very least, she got her flush mostly under control by the time they were actually seated.

"I hope you don't mind Italian, I quite like this restaurant," she said companionably. "They do an excellent gnocchi pesto and on occasion, I let myself have some pannacotta."

If she could have seen her own smile, she probably would have defined it as impish. It got a similar response from the brunette opposite her.

"I love Italian." There was something about the deep, molasses quality of Olivia's voice that made Alex respond in ways she knew weren't remotely PG13. She had a feeling that even if all the brunette did was read the phone book, it would still have had the same response.

The menu was a good excuse not to talk, which was good because for the first time in her life, Alex was completely lost for words. She wanted to be her normal self, witty, erudite and poised. Instead, she was desperately afraid she'd do something stupid, like choke on her own saliva again.

The waitress was far too efficient however, and it wasn't long before they're food was ordered and she was obliged to say something, or look even stupider than if she'd been choking.

"So, do you come from the City?"

Olivia's question came as a welcome ice-breaker, and reminded the blonde that to the woman opposite her, she was a stranger. She'd spent the better half of a year learning everything she could about Olivia Benson, but she'd bet money the reverse wasn't true.

"No actually, I'm from Massachusetts. Boston originally."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"One of the Boston Elite?"

Alex chuckled. "I'm not sure elite is quite what you'd think. My father is a pharmacist and my mother teaches third grade."

The detective smiled, taking a drink of her wine. "Somehow I pictured you as the child of lawyers, private school and Harvard."

Alex laughed, a full throaty laugh. "Hardly."

She relaxed, taking a sip of her own wine, and slowly getting more comfortable in her chair. By the time their dinners arrived, the women were fully engaged in conversation, and barely noticed the food arrive.

To her relief, the break of eating didn't dim the conversation. She was almost overjoyed when Olivia suggested trying the panacotta after all. The blonde was having such a good time she was unwilling to let the time go.

By the time the cheque did arrive however, their candle had burned down to a barely visible stub, and they were the only people left in the restaurant. Alex looked around, a little sheepishly, and her acute discomfort returned.

"I think they want us to leave," Olivia grinned.

"Mmm," Alex picked up the folder holding the bill. "I'm getting that subtle message." She looked over at the waitress, who was standing at the bar but eyeing them obviously.

Sliding her card into the folder, she was surprised when a warm hand covered hers.

"How much do I owe you."

It was almost impossible to answer with the feeling of Olivia touching her again, but she felt she had to.

"It's ok, it's on me."

"No, no I can't let you do that."

"Sure you can," Alex winked, "you can owe me next time." She felt some of her verbal slickness coming back, trying to wrangle a second dinner out of the first.

For a second, she was genuinely frightened that it had backfired, because the look on Olivia's face was so unreadable, Alex was sure her cover was broken. Until the brunette broke out in a smile.

"Fine, but the next one's on me."

"Deal."

The bill paid, and coats gathered, there was nothing more they could do but start to head home. The restaurant was only a few blocks from Alex's house and she intended to walk. She knew that Olivia lived more than walking distance in the opposite direction, and didn't quite know what to say to her. She desperately wanted to invite her back home for a drink. Was that kosher? Would that be ok? Would that be far too obvious.

"I've had a really nice night Alex." The comment was unexpected, but warmed the lawyer in a way she could never find words for.

"It was mutual." Shucking her hands in her pockets, she took a deep breathe. "I have wine at home, if you'd care to come up for a drink." It was caution to the wind, but she just couldn't help herself.

"Ok."

That's all she said, a simple ok, but it was enough to make Alex Cabot feel like Christmas had come early. More than one, all her Christmases, and all at once.

By the time they actually got to her apartment, in relative but companionable silence, she felt partially like she was walking on air and partially like she was about to throw up.

The silence was almost awkward as they rode the lift up to her apartment. Alex desperately wanted to break it, but honestly was at a loss for words. At least when she was at work, she was distracted enough from Olivia to function. Now, outside the bounds of the squad room and the courtroom, she felt powerless.

The silence was almost deafening by the time she got to her apartment, finding the key and slotting it into the door. She could have sworn she had goosebumps by the time she had let them both in and closed the door behind them.

"So…," Alex cleared her throat. "Wine or beer?"

She looked at the detective, and what she saw there was once again, unreadable. For a long moment the two women just faced each other, and the only sound that could be heard was their breathing.

God, Olivia was just so goddamn beautiful.

And then she heard it. It was soft, almost a whisper but still with enough tone to have that soft, molasses feel to it: her name.

"Alex."

Oh Christ.

Suddenly, Olivia was no longer four steps across the room but right there in front of her. Alex couldn't breathe, the walls closing in and making her dizzy. She could smell the brunette's scent, light but incredibly sensual. Her breasts were moving up and down with each swell of breathe, and moisture began to pool at the juncture of the lawyer's legs, which were weak, jelly like.

"Alex…" this time it was breathed, the sweet scent wafting so close and making the blondes mouth water.

Oh Christ.

An then: the unthinkable. Nothing on god's green earth could have prepared Alex for this: The feeling of Olivia Benson's lips on her own, moving with purpose and definite arousal.

Olivia's hands were moving, one in Alex's hair and one on the blonde's waist, pulling her in, holding her close.

The kiss deepened, Olivia's tongue running across the lawyer's lower lip, asking, begging for admittance and being allowed. She opened, letting the brunette take what she wanted.

It took her seconds to get enough wits to respond, pressing herself greedily against Olivia and moaning at the sensations rioting through her body. Their tongues tangled, as she tasted the woman she'd desired for so long.

Why this was happening she didn't know, and how she'd gotten this lucky she couldn't possibly fathom, but she didn't care. Olivia was here and they were kissing and it was incredible.

The brunette's hand tightened on her waist, their lips meeting over and over, until Alex thought she couldn't stand any more. Her own hands were clenching at Olivia's shirt, bunching the fabric, twisting as she fought for more contact, to feel more of the beautiful woman against her.

When their lips broke free she thought she'd die, but Olivia's kept moving, across her chin, to the angle of her jaw, kissing, tasting, and when she used her teeth, for a small nip, Alex moaned.

She'd never wanted someone this much. She'd never craved anyone like this, never needed to be naked more in her life. Whatever feelings she'd held prisoner inside for over a year were breaking free and overriding any sense or compulsion she might have had to stop and think about this.

Instead she turned her head, finding Olivia's lips and pulling her back into a kiss that was hot, wet and oh so very good. She felt the brunette's hand slide from her hip down to her ass and pull her closer, with a growl.

Oh fuck, Olivia Benson had just growled while kissing her.

That made her so wet.

She moved her hands from the fabric of the detectives shirt and slid them under, flattening them against the smooth skin of the brunette's back. It was soft, but she could feel the hardened steel of Olivia's muscles rippling underneath.

She barely noticed when the detective began walking them backwards, still kissing, still tangling their lips together. Alex didn't want it to stop. She didn't want the kisses to ever end, and when they bumped into the back of the couch and their mouths sprang free, she gasped.

"God," Olivia muttered thickly.

The brunette manouevred them around, still tightly gripping Alex, until the lawyer felt the arm of the sofa pressing into the back of her legs. It was mere moments before she tumbled backwards, letting out a small cry of surprise, and partially dismay that the delicious contact was broken.

She didn't have to wait long before Olivia was leaning over her, one leg on the floor and one knee on the other side of Alex, straddling her. Her arms were outstretched, so that she hovered, her body less than an inch from the blondes but still so paralyzingly far away.

And for the first time since they had kissed, their eyes locked. Although she was now more self-conscious than ever, she couldn't look away from the deep, brown eyes that enthralled her; that entranced her.

With what sounded like a half strangled moan, Olivia's head dropped, mouth searingly hot on Alex's, driving the blonde half mad with lust. Her hands came up, grabbing on to the detectives hips and pulling down, aching for that contact.

Olivia's pelvis came crashing in, fusing the two women from the waist down while her mouth began to move with more urgency on Alex's. The brunette came down onto her elbows, allowing their entire bodies to touch, chest to chest, leg to leg and most tantalizing of all, centre to centre.

Unable to help herself, Alex moaned into the kiss, grinding up and shuddering at the friction that only served to heighten her arousal. She was almost certain that if Olivia touched her now, she'd explode with a single caress.

Tangling her hand into Olivia's hair she threw herself into the kiss while the other hand scrambled to get under the brunette's shirt, touching the soft, warm skin there and moving her hand up.

She felt so good. She felt so amazingly good that it was like a dream, but the wetness between her thighs told her it was real.

It was insanely real.

She was hungry for more, but couldn't get enough. When Olivia shifted so that her leg was no longer on the floor, but now pressing up into Alex's centre, the blonde couldn't help herself, crying out, her mouth breaking away from the kiss.

But the brunette was not done, her mouth moving down across the brunette's chin, down to her neck where it played havoc with the lawyers senses. As Alex whimpered beneath the sensations, Olivia's hand moved up, sliding under the blonde's shirt and moving purposefully up.

When it found the swell of a breast it cupped, thumbing over a nipple already straining, and making Alex cry out again. She could feel Olivia's teeth and lips sucking at her pulse point, marking her.

She didn't care, she was hers. Olivia could take her here, now, and as often as she wanted.

When the hand on her breast slid up to pull one lace cup down, thumbing over the nipple. The brunette rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, heightening already over-intense sensations and making Alex arch her entire body up, thrusting her centre into Olivia's knee and making her world explode just that bit more.

She couldn't help it, it was too much.

"God, Liv, please!"

With a carnal groan, the brunette slid her hand out of Alex's shirt and moved down. She came back up, capturing the blonde's lips with her own and starting a kiss that was no less intense than those that had gone before.

So concentrated was she, on the feel of Olivia's tongue against her own, of their lips melding over and over, of the sheer taste and feel of the woman, that she didn't notice where the brunette's hand was until her pants were already unbuttoned and the zip was being pulled down.

She couldn't get her thoughts straight. Olivia was on top of her, kissing. She was so turned on that her body was shaking, and the brunette's hand was sliding, in, down. It pushed aside her panties and suddenly Alex's world flipped on its side.

"Oh … Alex," Olivia's lips breathed just milimetres from her own.

Those fingers. Those long, elegant fingers that Alex had long admired, were touching her, stroking her, and coating themselves in her wetness. Fingers scissored, either side of her clitoris, stroking and touching, gliding.

"God… please… oh god...," she panted.

Olivia's fingers slid lower, probing at her entrance.

"You're so wet…"

"Livvvvvvvv…" her moaning filled the air.

And then the fingers were gone, slowly removed, leaving Alex more bereft than she'd ever thought she'd feel. Blinking confusedly she looked up at the brunette, wanting to beg for more, not certain how to find the words.

"Bedroom…" The word came gasping out of Olivia's mouth, so garbled it took for it to be said a second time before Alex registered the meaning. "Bedroom."

A few seconds of blankness later, the blonde sat up, pushing the brunette back with her. A few more seconds later and they'd both scrambled off the couch. It was a slow backwards move to the bedroom because she couldn't keep her hands of Olivia. The detective was no less involved. They stopped once, the brunette pushing Alex up against a wall, mouth hot and heavy, tongue tasting and teasing. When the detectives knee pressed back between the blonde's knees she thought she might come then and there on the spot. It was almost a saviour when Olivia pulled away, dragging Alex the rest of the way to the bedroom.

As they stood, next to the bed, it was though time slowed, the urgency streaming away for just a second as Olivia's hands came up to cup the blonde's face.

"You're so beautiful. So very beautiful."

She never thought she'd hear those words come out of those lips. Alex had no other reply but to fuse her lips to Olivia's once again. Their hands scrambled, shirts and pants discarded. Alex felt her bra go flying, and fumbled until she managed to get the brunettes off as well.

She lifted, cupping one perfectly rounded breast as Olivia's mouth went wild on her own. She'd only just managed to feel a perfectly formed nipple harden in her palm before hands were on her hips, impelling her onto the bed.

They tangled, legs intertwining. Hands searched and stroked, heat rising. When Olivia's mouth found the hardened nub at the centre of Alex's breast, the blonde thought she'd die. Writhing against the brunette, she shuddered, whimpering her pleasure into the cool night air.

They moved across the bed, until Alex was straddling the blonde, hyper aware of the incredible body beneath hers. She ran her fingers lightly over Olivia's hard stomach, feeling the skin quiver under her touch. Her mouth tasted, sucked, and engulfed every thing she could. It was Olivia who pulled away first, swearing epithets and shuddering against the brunette.

She straightened up, sitting up against the bedhead and pulling Alex hard against her. Before she could say anything, let alone object, she was straddling Olivia's lap, the detective's hands pulling on her hips until she was kneeling up, breasts level with the brunette's mouth.

She threw her head back as that perfect set of lips latched on, bringing her left nipple to a hard peak, worrying it with her tongue and then biting down, just this side of pain, until Alex cried out. She thought she'd die of pleasure as Olivia bit her way across, nipping to her right breast.

And then those fingers were pulling on her panties, until she moved, allowing them to be thrown haphazardly across the room. She was pulled back, straddling the brunette's lap again, fingers digging into her cheeks as Olivia moved her mouth over the blonde's long, slender neck.

The pleasure was thrumming through Alex's veins, sparking out and making her undulate against the woman beneath her.

"Fuck… Liv fuck…"

She was so aroused, so ready to explode she couldn't see.

And those fingers were back, sliding into her wetness. She heard Olivia gasp, moaning at the sensation.

"You feel so good," she whispered against Alex's throat. "So very good…"

All she could moan in return was "please."

Olivia flicked her fingers across Alex's clitoris, making it throb, brushing across the hardened nub again and again. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, the blonde felt the fingers slide south again, playing at her entrance.

"Yes… Christ … yes…"

Two fingers pushed, slowly but oh so very slowly into Alex's core. Her cry echoed off the walls, as she was utterly filled. It was instinct, making her rise up on her knees and sinking again, the brunette's fingers plunging inside her.

A hand came around, grasping her ass, helping her rise up, come down, slowly fucking herself on Olivia's fingers. And those magical fingers curled, moved, making the blonde whimper and babble, begging for release she knew was so close.

"Please, oh, please, oh, please…"

She barely registered it on the edge of consciousness, she was so focused on the fingers moving inside her, and the thumb coming up and brushing over her clitoris again and again. But she did hear, just, the words coming out of Olivia's mouth:

"I've got you, I've got you… come for me, god come for me Alex."

Pumping herself harder, riding Olivia's hand like her heart would stop beating if she stopped moving, the horizon flew towards her.

Then she came, harder than she'd ever climaxed before in her life. Nothing could have prepared her for the waves of pleasure that flowed through her like a tsunami. Every nerve ending in her body exploded as she cried out her orgasm, nuzzling against Olivia's cheek and convulsing.

The waves kept coming, crashing through as the brunette's fingers flexed inside her, finding just the right spot to make her spasm, pleasure like she'd never known before, until slowly, but slowly, it ebbed away.

Completely thrown, limp and weak, she slumped against Olivia, burying her face in the detective's neck and letting her hands slide down to hold onto hips. Her breathing slowed, piece by piece, until she became aware of Liv holding her, stroking her back, and breathing not to evenly herself.

Gently, Alex lifted her head, to once again stare into the eyes of the lover she'd craved so long. Olivia's pupils were dilated with desire, her cheeks flushed. Her breathing continued to be uneven, and just a flick of her eyes south showed the blonde the rise of one incredibly sexy chest.

Damn.

Tentatively, she reached her hand down, trailing her fingers over the swell of Olivia's breast, until she found a rosy bud, tweaking it softly as she went. She could see everything in Olivia's eyes, washing over her. She thrummed her thumb across the hard tip, making the brunette quiver, and readjusted so she was back to straddling the detective.

Alex let her hand drift south, sliding it down across Olivia's abdomen, which quivered under the soft touch. As she got to the edge of the detective's black panties, Alex could have sworn she heard the other woman gasp.

The blonde leaned in, pressing her nose to the soft skin just in front of Olivia's ear. One hand held the head of the bed, steadying them, while the other dipped down until she could brush soft, and stunningly wet curls.

"Oh," Alex moaned softly.

She'd never let herself think about what this would feel like. She'd had many thoughts about what Olivia might be like under many conditions, but she'd never let herself get this far. That would have been too much.

Now she was here, touching, being, and… moaning.

Sliding her hand lower, she let her fingers slick across Olivia's hard clitoris, feeling it swell just a bit more beneath her touch.

It was the detective's turn to moan, bucking her hips ever so slightly under the weight of Alex.

"Fuck…"

Alex smiled against Olivia's cheek, the brunette's epithet giving her just that bit more confidence to keep going. She sought out the detective's soft, moist entrance, feeling the woman shudder beneath her, and doing the same herself.

"Please…." Olivia moaned. "Alex please!"

Her name. Olivia had moaned her name. She was begging for Alex to fuck her and the blonde was trembling so hard, poised right on the edge.

"Liv…" she breathed. "Oh Liv…"

She pushed two fingers in, exquisitely slowly, closing her eyes and breathing, enjoying the sensation of Olivia closing around her, tight, hot and spasming. Even better was the guttural moan that emanated from the brunette's mouth. When her fingers were buried as deep as they would go, she gently flexed her fingers, searching out the spot she was sure was there.

She knew when she hit it. Olivia's cry was enough to make the blonde come out in goosebumps. Olivia's hands found her hips, gripping so hard Alex was sure she'd have small finger shaped bruises, and she didn't care.

Slowly, almost painfully so, she withdrew her fingers until just the tips were inside and then just as slowly, pushed them all the way back in. God Olivia was wet. So wet that Alex was sure she could have fit at least one more, if not two more fingers deep inside the brunette.

Instead she curled her fingers up and brought her thumb up to brush gently across Olivia's hard, throbbing clit.

"Yesssss…" The brunette hissed, clenched teeth as Alex softly stroked her centre. Liv's head was thrown back, now, as the blonde nuzzled the crook of her neck.

"Al… ex," Olivia stuttered. "Please… please Alex… harder…"

Oh god, there was nothing sexier than the detective begging.

Nothing.

Alex increased her pace, still thrusting all the way in and then withdrawing, curling her fingers with each thrust and slowly but surely getting faster and harder. Every third thrust she brushed her thumb up over the tight, hard nub of nerves that seemed to make Olivia gasp.

The brunette's noises became more frantic, harder, as her fingers scrambled on Alex's hips.

"Fuck, yes, fuck… oh god… oh god… Alex… I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

And then Olivia came all over the blonde's hand. Her centre contracted, spasming around Alex's fingers almost painfully as they simultaneously moaned, Olivia at the pleasure coursing through her and Alex at the detective's words.

Oh Christ.

That was… amazing. She wanted to tell Liv how amazing it was but she wasn't sure she could talk. Her fingers were still buried deep inside the brunette and the last thing she wanted to do was take them out.

Plus she didn't quite know what to say.

Very gently, she moved her fingertips.

Olivia moaned.

"Too much," she gasped. "Too much." The detective's hand reached down, grasping Alex's wrist and slowly pulling the blonde out and away from her centre.

Alex missed the contact immediately, despite the fact her hand was covered with Olivia's wetness. She fought the urge to lift her hand to her lips and taste it.

Instead she used it to cup Olivia's side, hugging the brunette who was breathing erratically into the crook of her neck and holding on tight.

Christ.

Blinking awake, Alex turned her head. Lying next to her, face down, was Olivia. Alex thought she'd never see anything so beautiful in her life again, and she thought she'd never again have a wake up quite like it.

It took her about five minutes of staring at the woman, awestruck and so very, very carefully still, to really come to terms with the fact that Olivia was in her bed. She could still feel, in every delicious ache and twinge, the very reasons for Olivia being there.

Alex couldn't fathom how she'd gotten this lucky, but she had.

Sliding out of bed, she padded to the bathroom. She took a little longer than normal, brushing her teeth, making sure her hair wasn't too disheveled, and then gently made her way back into bed.

For a few seconds she thought she might have gotten away with it, letting Liv sleep on and maybe, just maybe, getting to watch. However creepy that sounded, Alex couldn't get enough of the sight of the brunette.

So when Olivia's eyes opened, just a fraction, a small amount of air gasped from the blonde's lungs, just enough of a breath to make the detective's sleepy eyes open a little bit more.

After a few more seconds, it became clear that Alex was still staring at the other woman, and it was getting to just this side of creepy.

"Hi," she said, softly, almost shyly.

Alex Cabot had woken up beside very few people. Most of the people who made it into her bed were ushered out well before the night was over. The few people who'd managed to stay had, well, they hadn't exactly made her overjoyed the next morning.

This was a little bit different.

This was Olivia.

"Hi." The reply was just as soft, and made frissons of sensation filter down Alex's body. Even though she could feel the tender ache between her legs from the night before, when Olivia had made love to her a few more times than she was used to, there was still a readiness for the brunette to do it again.

"Want some coffee?"

Alex tried not to drool as the brunette, still naked, stretched and turned over. The blonde briefly got a glimpse of two amazingly sensual breasts before the sheet was pulled up to cover.

"That sounds… fantastic."

It meant getting out of bed, but now she'd offered, Alex was kind of obliged to go through with the offer.

Getting up, she threw on her gown, tying it around her waist and half prayed that Olivia was watching her. The other half, of course, was still rueing the awkwardness of this moment and praying Olivia wasn't watching at all.

Why was this awkward?

She'd gotten what she wanted. She'd gotten Olivia into bed, and then had hot, tumultuous sex all damn night. It hadn't been awkward when it had happened, it had been silky smooth and the most incredible sex of her life.

So why was it awkward now?

Simply because she had no idea what it meant to Olivia. And she had no idea how to ask the detective either. More than anything, she didn't want the wrong answer. The last thing Alex wanted was to hear that this had been a one off, or worse, a mistake.

Instead she walked towards the door. She was halfway down the short hall to the kitchen when she heard Olivia's voice float towards her.

"Alex… can I borrow a t-shirt?"

Of course, all Liv had was her dress top from the night before.

"Of course," she called back. "Second draw down, on the left."

Putting the water pot on to boil, the lawyer spooned just enough coffee into the percolator to make two cups. She leaned against the counter and stared at the water in the percolator pot.

"Is that dark roast?"

Turning around, she spotted Olivia coming through the kitchen door. The t-shirt the brunette had chosen proclaimed Alex's Alma Mater in bold letters, and she thought Harvard had never looked so good. They looked remarkably sexy when combined with the pin-striped dress trousers that Olivia had grabbed off the floor.

"Yeah."

Despite turning her back to the bench, Alex still gripped the counter with both hands. Part of her was afraid she'd just reach out and grab the woman in front of her, ravish her right there in the kitchen, and the other half was afraid she'd do something stupid, like throw the coffee all over the floor.

Or choke on her own saliva.

"Smells good."

Damn. Damn, damn, damn but it was awkward.

"Liv…" the nickname rolled off her tongue.

"Don't." Olivia was in the kitchen now, leaning against the bench and looking right at her. It wasn't that big of a kitchen, and since Alex was completely perpendicular to the brunette, there was even less room between them.

Don't.

What a word. It became achingly clear, very fast, that this _had_ been a one off. That Olivia was feeling more than awkward and Alex was about to find out. She really didn't want to hear.

Steeling herself, and putting back together her trade-mark icy poise, she turned back around to the coffee.

"Don't worry Olivia. I understand." She removed the now heated water from the stand, poured it into the top of the machine and replaced it below. "Would you like the coffee to go?"

The silence hung like an angry elephant, invading the room.

"God please don't do this," there was soft, pleading tone in Olivia's voice that Alex didn't quite recognize. "Please don't pretend this didn't happen…"

It took a moment for the words to sink in. The buzz in the attorney's head had nearly filtered out the noise but she caught it, just on the edge of hearing.

Turning her head, she looked straight into the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen.

"Please…"

Hurt. Olivia looked hurt. The glimmer of pain in those eyes was definitely Alex's undoing.

"No… I didn't…" At a complete loss for words she turned, facing the woman she'd pined after for so long and grabbed her hand. "I thought you… I thought…"

She could feel Olivia trembling, and knew that now, more than ever, she had to regain her vocabulary and oratory abilities.

"I thought this was... I thought you didn't know I existed outside of work."

Olivia gazed back at her, the pain wavering and turning into confusion. "How could you think that? How could anyone ignore you Alex, you're … you're amazing!"

The blonde felt a flush rise over her cheeks, but before she could reply, the brunettes words kept coming.

"I thought you thought I was just some other hard assed detective to whip into shape…"

Alex laughed, unable to help the chuckle that bubbled up from within. "Hard assed yes… but just some 'other'… no Olivia, you've never been some 'other' to me."

The brunette took a step closer. "I'm not?"

"How could you be?" Alex whispered, suddenly it was too much to keep her eyes focused on Olivia's, instead she moved them down to their joined hand. "From the moment I met you in the squad room I…"

She tried not to choke on the end of your sentence.

"You…" Olivia prompted, gently.

"I haven't been able to think of anyone else."

Truth. The truth out there, between them. She hadn't wanted anyone else but Olivia in a long time, and now the brunette knew it.

Olivia's free hand came up to cup the blonde's cheek, bringing their gazes back to meet.

"I never… I never thought you felt that way about me."

"You're amazing… how could I feel any other way?" Alex nuzzled gently into the hand holding her, a bare sliver of movement but enough to make Olivia tremble again.

"I never thought… I never…"

"You kissed me," Alex looked up, feeling far more strength now Olivia was holding her, now she knew that rejection wasn't on the cards. Her eyes sparkling, she got a little of her old spirit back, "you yelled at me!"

Olivia had the grace to look a little guilty. "I know… I'm so sorry."

"It's ok."

"I… you ran away. I hurt you. I could barely forgive myself for hurting you. I'm not sure I have yet." The brunette's soft thumb came up to brush Alex's cheek, making the very slightest of smiles appear on the blonde's face. "And I knew if I could hurt you… I wasn't nothing to you."

"Never," Alex swore, "you could never be nothing to me."

"And then we had dinner and… I took a chance…"

The blonde took a step forward, pushing her body into Olivia's and gripping the other woman's hip with her free hand. "Olivia…"

"So please… please don't say this didn't happen."

Taking her hand out of the detective's, she used it to cup the brunette's head and bring her into a soft, soft kiss. "I wouldn't. I couldn't."

"I've wanted you from the moment I saw you," Olivia confessed against the blonde's lips. "God, I want you now."

Alex chuckled. "We've wasted a lot of time…" and then grinned as Olivia pulled her even tighter against the brunette's lean body.

"We have," the detective agreed. Her mouth came down again, but stopped just millimeters from the blonde's mouth. "Lets not waste any more."


End file.
